Social Anxiety
by katierosefun
Summary: [Modern day AU] After going through a bad break-up, John Smith is convinced that he needs to kiss someone to get his confidence up-and-running again. So, who does he go to for help? Clara Oswald, that's who. [Whoufflé fluff.]


**I feel like it's been a while since I've released a proper Whoufleé one-shot, especially since Whouffaldi has been the only thing in my brain lately. XD (Don't worry, I'm not done with Whoufleé though! I love both pairings equally in different ways. I feel like Whoufleé will always be my happy, bubbly, fluffy OTP that makes me want them to get MARRIED and have KIDS, whereas Whouffaldi will always be the intense, darker ship that's all about fighting and confusion and twists, which is very, very interesting. :)) **

**So, there I was, going through my documents on Word Docx, and then I found this little thing that I wrote a while ago. After reading it over and editing some of it, I thought, _why not? You're bored. _**

**And viola, here I am! Enjoy! **

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_Social Anxiety _

"_No_, John," Clara Oswald said indignantly, snapping her book to a close. She swiveled around in her desk-chair, giving her friend a stern glare. "There is _no way on Earth _that I'm going to allow you to kiss me – and I am _not _going to kiss you." John Smith groaned pathetically, hugging one of Clara's pillows tightly to his chest. The two teenagers were stuck in Clara's room – Clara had meant to study for an upcoming biology test the next day, but instead, she was stuck arguing with John, who was talking about doing a _very, very, very stupid thing. _

"But it'll help me get my confidence back, Clara!" John replied. "Do it for a friend! For me!"

Clara stuck out her tongue. "Nope, and nope," she said loftily, standing up and making her way to her bookshelf. "I think it's absolutely stupid that you think you need to kiss someone to get your confidence back." After a few seconds of scanning through the shelves, Clara plucked out her biology textbook. "One bad break-up isn't going to kill you – we've all been through those." She plopped herself down on the foot of her bed, kicking John's feet aside. "When I broke up with Latimer, I didn't ask _you _to kiss me."

John frowned and kicked his feet back onto Clara's lap, ignoring her pointed glares. "Yeah, well, Latimer was a total douchebag," he argued. "And we all knew it – so you didn't lose any confidence when you two split up." When Clara rolled her eyes, John went on, "But I thought River was _perfect_, Clara! I'm emotionally s_carred!_"

"Are you sure it's not just your dumb boy-hormones kicking in? Because _down, boy,_" Clara said, allowing herself to toss a smirk at John. To her glee, a flush crept up at John's cheeks. "N-no, it's nothing like that!" he stammered. "It's just – you're the only girl who's safe enough to actually kiss me!"

Clara rolled her eyes and flipped open the book. "And what's _that _supposed to me? There's tons of girls that go to your house – kiss one of them." She heard John exhale a long, indignant sigh and the ruffle of blankets as he pushed himself up to his elbows.

"I can't kiss Amy because she's dating Rory and you _know _how Rory feels about that – I don't think he's still over the fact that she kissed me in the sixth grade." John muttered. Clara smirked at that – of course she knew how protective Rory was over Amy, though it wasn't anything wrong. Amy and Rory were smitten with each other and they were all John's best mates…still, she supposed John had a valid reason for not kissing Amy.

"Then kiss Rory," Clara said, thumbing through the pages. She heard John snort. "And lose my arm in the process? I'd rather not mess with _that_, thank you very much." He replied. "And besides, I'm not gay and Rory and I are strictly _guy friends._"

"Mm," Clara murmured, flicking John's foot.

Kicking his foot again, John went on, "And as for my older brother's girls, do you _really _want me to do that? He'd _murder me _if I kissed Rose and Martha's already taken by Mickey, who'd make sure that I would be fed to the sharks before I make a move on her…and Donna would kick my ass to Antarctica." After a pause, John added, "And I don't think I really want to kiss Jack – he'd be too enthusiastic and frankly, I think my brother would kill Jack and me _both _if we _were _kissing."

Clara giggled into her textbook and threw herself down on the bed so she'd be lying down next to John. She rolled over on her stomach and held the textbook out in front of herself, saying, "I still don't think it's a good idea for you to kiss me – you can kiss the next girl who happens to be your girlfriend."

John poked Clara. "But that's just it! How am I going to be ready for another girlfriend if I still don't get past the social anxiety?" he asked. Clara sighed and turned to look at John, which, sadly, was her mistake. John had a sad, beseeching smile which made Clara's heart thaw out of its ice. She groaned and threw a pillow at her friend's face. "_Don't look at me like that,_" she chided, though John knew that he had already won as well as she did.

Laughing, John shoved the pillow out of the way and wrapped his arms around Clara's shoulders. "Thank you!" he said happily, pulling Clara to a sitting position. The brunette sighed and said, "If you tell _anyone _about this, I swear I'll make your life a living hell."

"Clara, please, I have an older brother," John replied lightly. "You can't make it any worse."

"Oh, really? We'll see about that," Clara shot back and John grinned.

And then he did it – he leaned down and pressed his lips against Clara's. He kept a firm hand over Clara's back, but didn't move it. _What a gentleman. _

Despite the fact that Clara's mind was still reeling over the fact that her best friend was actually _kissing her_, a small, single thought formed – _not really a bad kisser, this one. _And that was true – the only kisses that Clara had gotten herself was from her own ex, who seemed more intent on shoving his tongue down her mouth and making the kiss lead itself into some form of intimacy that Clara wasn't ever really comfortable with.

But this one was different – John didn't overstep any boundaries, didn't try to do anything _but _kiss her.

That was all.

So when John finally pulled away, the only thing Clara could say was, "That wasn't…awful."

John ran a hand through his hair. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, lifting his (weak) eyebrows. Clara felt her cheeks burn and exasperated, kicked herself off the bed. "It wasn't supposed to mean anything!" she said hurriedly and practically shoved her face into her book.

_John was really good at kissing. _

When Clara waved John goodbye later that day, the brunette felt dread pool in her stomach – at least, a mix of it. Dread and fear and utter joy and confusion all combined into one chaotic ball of…_something that Clara didn't understand yet. _She let out a soft breath and pressed her face against the door afterwards.

"John Smith," she muttered quietly. "I _told _you I was going to hate you forever for making me kiss you."

And why did poor Miss Oswald hate John Smith?

_Because she actually liked the kiss. _

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**A/N - Warning - DO NOT TRY DO THIS TO YOUR FRIEND OR A GIRL/BOY YOU ONLY KNEW A BIT ABOUT. IT WILL RESULT IN TROUBLE. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. I CANNOT GUARANTEE SUCCESSFUL RESULTS IF YOU TRY THIS. KATIEROSEFUN IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY DAMAGE DONE TO THE PERSON ATTEMPTING JOHN'S EXPERIMENT. **

**...what? You can't ever be too sure. XD **

**Reviews are always great! Constructive criticism is welcome, but flames are not!**


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